Of Jacks and Kings
by ScarletMask
Summary: She had Kings.  That was obvious.  He could see, just for the way his idiot henchmen looked at her up and down.  Yes, she could have all the Jacks and Kings she wanted. Yet, she chose a Joker. The King of Spades, the Prince of Crime.


**Title: Jacks and Kings**

**Summary:**Yes, she could have all the Jacks and Kings she , she chose a Joker.

**Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn**

**Genre:** Slight angst, jealousy, jokeromance,  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None  
><strong>Warnings: implied murder, very very light violence<strong>  
><strong>Notes: Just something I wrote when I couldn't fall asleep; I'm not sure if I reaaally liked it, but yeah...<strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or it's characters; **

* * *

><p><em> Of Jacks and Kings<em>

_ by: ScarletMask_

* * *

><p>Jack.<p>

Queen.

Joker.

She had Kings. That was obvious. He could see, just for the way his idiot henchmen looked at her up and down. Yes, she could have all the Jacks and Kings she wanted.

Yet, she chose a Joker. The King of Spades, the Prince of Crime.

_The _Joker.

It was an awful joke. Awfully funny.

He didn't understand. He gave her every reason to go away. To run from him, just so he could follow and drag her back.

But she never ran. Didn't matter how he abused her, used her, beat her up. His stupid little Harlequin always got up, and somehow ended in his arms.

Because she knew. She knew why he did it. She knew she couldn't leave.

He was lost. Broken. And then he found her. _Harleen Quinzel. _The Joker seduced her, charmed her. Manipulated her feelings, corrupted her innocence and took over her mind.

Everyone thought it was just for the fun; Harley Quinn was just another one of his pretty toys.

Sure, Harley was his toy, his puppet. But she was _his. _He'd grown to need her. Couldn't stand being completely away from her anymore.

After all, when he'd break, Harley was the only one who had the guts to pick up the pieces and tie them back together again.

He gripped the armchair tighter. That _fuckingstupidsonofabitch _henchman – what was his name again? Jim? Ted? _Fuck his name. If he looks at her like that one more time… _A low bubble of cruel laughter reached his lips. Maybe he'd have to tear his eyes out next time. Teach a lesson.

The creaked under the pressure of his fingers. Another man kicked the motherfucker from under the table, and he tore his eyes off Harley immediately.

Jack. His name was Jack.

The Joker chuckled maniacally. How ironic.

What was that? Was he… was he glowering at him now?

His chuckle got louder and louder. _Jack. _Oh, he'd remember his name. Jack, the motherfucker who thought could _look _at _his_ Harlequin.

With a soft 'pang' on the table, Harley dropped the gun she was remounting and looked up at him, completely forgetting about the conversation with _Jack. _ Her baby blue eyes got even bigger than they already were, etched with concern. The look she'd always wore when she woke up alone in their bed.

Skipping from the table quickly, she made her way to him, the high pigtails bouncing up and down.

-What's wrong Puddin'? – Harley asked, her voice lower than the usual high pitch, bubbly tone. He shifted his dark eyes to her form standing beside him; closer than anyone would _dare_ to get.

Red hot anger shot in his eyes; Why could she see through him like that? Why wasn't she afraid, cowering in the back of the room like the rest of them?

Joker gripped her forearm tightly, shoving her violently against him, shaking her, searching in her eyes for something, anything. Fear, regret, hurt.

Nothing, but the confusion and concern. For him.

His hand the scar on her wrist; she had acquired it a few days earlier. In one of their heists.

Harley had taken a risk, drawing the attention away from him; one of those mob rats threw a dagger at her, aiming for her stomach and failing miserably. He had lived a little while after that – not very pleasantly so, sure, but still.

The Joker loosened his bruising grip on her and grazed his finger lightly on the scar. He remembered how he'd killed the rat. How painfully and agonizing he had paid for hurting his Harlequin. No one – _no one _ touched her but him.

-Mistah J – She murmured, reaching closer. – Tell me what you need.

Joker traced his fingers on her cheeks, where his scars would be; Harley shivered slightly and grazed his chin with her nails softly.

He looked deep into those big, blue eyes of hers, and laughed, yanking Harley into his lap by her hair.

With all the Jacks and Kings in the world… she still chose to be his.

-_You, _Harley – He growled, half harshly pulling her lips to his.


End file.
